Ten Miles Of Closet Space
by Jiyugami-chan
Summary: Sept 1992. My name is Marik Sebastian Ishtar III. It's a stupid name. I'm not smart or funny. I just happened to wind up with a bunch of punks for friends. And none of us are straight. M for use of drugs that aren't weed, cigs or booze. Also violence and enough colorful language to power an eight hour acid trip. OOC, Abridged Universe. DISCONTINUED; READ PROFILE FOR MORE INFO
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first slash fiction. I used to not like slash, but YGOTAS said no. So now I like slash. I really hate old me. Old me was a noob.**

Life's never fun for me.

It's like the gods hate me or something. Or perhaps they aren't even there and therefore my life sucks. Both seem pretty frigging likely if you ask me.

When I was born, my mother died. My brother and sister had to raise me and ward off my nut of a father. The man's insane.

I'll start with the little things.

He doesn't let us watch TV at all, except for tapes of Disney films. He has a penchant for the ones that sucked. He has a pet snake who he plays basketball with. He voted for frigging George HW Bush. He keeps calling me Billy. He bought me an NES, then he pawned off the game that came with it, and never let me buy another cartridge. He then proceeded to fill it with beer.

Speaking of beer, he drinks a lot of it. The man keeps around this dagger called the Millennium Rod. Supposedly it's a sacred artifact of our Ancient Egyptian ancestors. He never lets anybody into the house because of it, saying they'll steal it. He never lets us out of the house, except for school, so we can guard it too. I never got exactly why it's so important, or why he hasn't sold it yet. When sheathed, it looks like a frigging golden dildo with wings. Part of me wants to steal it and attempt to use it as such, but it probably doesn't actually work like a dildo. Probably. With my father, one can never truly know.

I was going to a new high school this year, my second year. It wasn't going to be anything overly interesting. Until I walked in to my homeroom.

Some guy was sitting on the teacher's desk. He had long, white, tangled hair, and brown eyes that suggested interest in starting anarchy. He wasn't smiling. I took my seat.

The teacher walked in.

"Mister Bakura, please take a seat."

"I'm quite afraid I already have."

"Then take another one."

He just stood up and sat down again. The class was in stitches.

"Mister Bakura, please take a seat among the students."

"I am among students. This is a school, is it not?"

They all just kept laughing. The guy didn't even smirk. The teacher yanked him out of the seat and pushed him away. The teacher sat and the class was silent.

"See me after class, young man."

The guy shrugged and took a seat in the front row –right in front of me, by the way –and put his feet on the desk.

"Now, class, since this is the first day I want all your names for attendance. We'll go alphabetically. First…"

He called out names and people would raise their hands.

"…Florence Bakura?"

Nobody raised their hands. They were giggling. The guy tensed and raised his hand.

"…And call me Bakura, lest I slit your throat while you sleep."

The class did not take that too seriously, but in the back of my mind I knew it probably wasn't an empty threat.

Homeroom passed quickly. We got our schedules and textbooks passed out, the class gossiped the whole period. The two kids behind me were especially talkative.

"Hey, Yug, didya hear about that band that's on tour, and they're performin' here?"

"Yeah, Joey. I can't go. Family business to take care of. Wish I could though."

"I could jus' film it for ya."

"You know you'll get caught, right?"

"Good point."

I don't know why, but this had struck me as interesting. So interesting, I had turned around. The two kids who were talking were a short kid with crazy dyed hair – probably a punk or something –and a blond guy who was holding a GameBoy, tapping away at Kirby's Dreamland. I only knew this because I had seen the ads for it in a TV shop, from the time my dad smashed our old television in half that summer.

They noticed me instantly.

"Hey kid, whatchya starin' at?"

"What do you mean?"

"You jus' turned around, kid. Yer obviously lookin' at somethin', am I wrong?"

I cleared my throat and took a breath in. It was time to bullshit my way through this.

"Who's gonna be playing?"

"Huh?"

The midget punk helped him out.

"The concert you were talking about, Joey. He wants to know what band it is."

"Ohhhhh… thanks, Yug."

"So…you going to answer him?"

"Oh yeah, I think it was something like T7?"

"No, you moron, it wasn't T7! It was L7!"

"Are ya sure, Yug? Cause I think it was T7."

'Yug' held up his fingers in the shape of a square to let 'Joey' see.

"L7, like the square, Joey. See?"

"Fine, it was L7. Ya win the game, Yug."

At this point, I had turned around. I could feel myself grinning. L7 was one of my favorite bands of all time. I had to go to that concert, I had to! Then I remembered.

 _Dad won't let me. He keeps me locked in the house, just as always._

There goes my weekend. I guess it wasn't like I could afford tickets anyways.

The rest of the period was kind of blurry, until the bell rang.

That was when I bumped into that guy, Florence. Or rather, he bumped into me.

And I did the stupidest thing I could have.

"Watch where you're going, _Fluffy_."

"Excuse me?" He turned around, and he didn't look pleased. The whole class was staring at me. I stood defiant.

Yeah right, more like I stood friggin' STUPID. I think somebody had put a stupid pill in my cereal that morning. And then the stupid continued.

"I said, _watch where you're going, FLUFFY."_

He made an expression that terrified me, but _no_ , no natural instincts for me today. Today was friggin' adrenaline day for Marik _friggin'_ Ishtar! I _had_ to stay there. I had to.

"What did you call me, you-"

"I called you _Fluffy_. _"_

"Say that again."

" _Fluffy._ "

Stupid, stupid, stupid _, stupid_! I was officially a world class idiot.

" _You."_ He jabbed his finger in my face, and practically hissed the rest of the sentence. "You call me Bakura or you call me nothing. Get it, you bi-?"

I snatched his schedule. He never saw it coming.

"Oh, I got it, _Florence_ …"

It's as if I could hear his blood vessels popping. If so, he was having an aneurysm. A metaphorical aneurysm, of course.

"…Oh, I'm sorry. I should be calling you by your preferred name, right?"

He was almost too angry and too shocked to respond. He just nodded.

"Well, then I'll try that again." I fake coughed a bit and stood up to his height. I was right in his face. His expression didn't change.

"I got it, _Nothing._ "

Gods, was I stupid.

I laughed like a maniacal douche bag and then came the best – or worst –part.

I tore his schedule in half and threw the bottom half at him. I shoved the top half in my pocket.

I walked off all proud, like some kind of jock or something. I could sense Florence seething all the way down the hall. The second I was out of his sights, I slid into a bathroom and nearly punched my reflection in the face.

"What the FRIGG were you THINKING, you FRIGGING MORON?" I screamed at myself. "You KNOW he's going to frigging KILL you, YOU IDIOT! HE'S GONNA TEAR OUT YOUR FRIGGING GUTS AND USE THEM AS FRIGGING FLOSS!"

I heaved a heavy sigh, and buried my face in my hands.

"It's okay. It's alright. You can win him over. You can sweet talk your way through your psycho for a father, you can sweet talk your way through anybody."

Then I recalled what he had almost called me.

" _You call me Bakura or you call me nothing. Get it, you bi-?"_

What am I going to bet he was going to call me a bitch?

 **Some things you might be asking:**

 **What year is this** **? This is set in September 1992, United States. I am trying to stay true to the times. I have researched release dates and appropriate gaming consoles and crap.**

 **Why no Lady Gaga?** **Lady Gaga did not exist (She was like 6 and was known by her real name, not her stage name) so it's gonna be Blondie, Elton John and The Village People instead, because they're every bit as gay. (Well, Blondie's bi, and so is Lady Gaga…but still!)**

 **The hell's L7?** **Better music taste, that's what, you bubblegum poppers!**

 **I used the 'Nothing' joke from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It's a great book, and I guess I liked the movie.**

 **Expect references to Nirvana, L7, Blondie, Lou Reed, The Village People, Elton John, Cyndi Lauper and Culture Club for sure. ABBA, The Smiths, AC/DC, The Beatles, Queen, Led Zeppelin and Melvins may also turn up. Also Husker Du. Definitely Husker Du.**

 **Lots of jokes and ideas from 80s and 90s movies and books.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter's here!**

I knew I could live through this. A few more hours, and I'd be at home, locked in my room, flipping through mixtapes and volumes of yaoi manga. Just a few more.

I sat alone in a corner of the cafeteria, hugging my bag like a frigging stuffed animal, keeping an eye out for any immediate signs of danger (like Florence, I mean Bakura!)

I reached into my backpack and pulled out a pen and my sketchbook. I uncapped the pen and opened the sketchbook.

I doodled. I drew the Village People doing the YMCA as stick -people. I made a rough sketch of my father's face, and I gave him devil horns and a handlebar moustache. I giggled, and defaced him further with a goatee and a frigging monocle. I scribbled out the shape of the baby from the cover of 'Nevermind.' I replaced the dollar bill on the hook with the Millennium Rod. I drew a cat with an angry expression. It looked a bit like Bakura's expression, so I made the cat into a Bakura-Cat. I gave it spiky fur and made its eyes more evil.

The more I looked at it, the more ridiculous it looked. And the more sense it made. The guy was really like a cat!

Next to the Bakura-Cat, I wrote, _Dedicated to a Fluffy Nothing who called me a bitch. You are my kitty and this is what it looks like when you poop._

I snickered at my own avant-garde humor. That made no frigging sense at all.

"What's so bloody funny?"

 _SHIT._

I snapped the sketchbook shut and shoved it into my bag, tossed in the pen, zipped it shut, and clutched it to my chest. I looked up, shaking, at Bakura himself.

I swallowed and did the asspull.

"I was just thinking how frigging funny my corpse will look after you're done with it. You know, with the arms torn off."

His eyes did a thing. I'm not sure how to describe it, but it's as if he was taking me seriously, and his eyes reflected that.

"Is that an offering?"

"N-no. Just a joke."

"You. Me. Hallway. _Now._ "

I gulped and dropped my bag, and followed him into the hallway. The second we were out of sight, he shoved me into the wall. It hurt, to say the least. Then he let me go and backed off.

"You're lucky you're pretty. Otherwise I'd beat you into the next bloody century."

"That's only eight years away, Fluffy. Seven years and a few months, exactly."

"Keep calling me Fluffy and I'll show up at a reunion party with your bloody name on my fists."

I snorted and replied in a horribly faked English accent.

"And what? Pour some hot tea over my crotch?"

I saw a look of discomfort pass over him until it was replaced by anger.

"I'm not British, you moron!"

"But you are totally gay."

He winced at this.

"No, I'm bloody not!"

"You called me pretty, you're the gayest gay guy since frigging Elton John!"

"I thought you were a girl is all. It's not like it's easy to tell the difference, anyways."

"Yeah, you're righ- HEY! I am not feminine!"

"Could have fooled me. You're just like the hair-bleaching, body-tan-salon abusing, brainless bitches I see all over every bloody school! And what the hell's up with your clothes?"

He gestured to my shirt, which was formerly a purple t-shirt I modified to show off my abs.

Oh, if only you knew how long I had subjected myself to sunlight while nearly naked, would you understand how raving mad that statement made me.

"I do not bleach my hair, my tan is almost completely natural, and I AM NOT STUPID!"

"Well, if you aren't, then explain why you decided to screw around with me."

"I did not want to screw around with you!"

He snickered at that, for some reason.

"I think you're the gay one."

"I'm completely heterosexual!"

"Oh? Because in science I could have sworn I heard you whistling The Village People."

"Lots of people like The Village People!"

"And Elton John?"

"Oh, come on, nobody would guess unless he walked right up to a guy and kissed him on the mouth!"

He rolled his eyes.

"This conversation is over. Tell anybody I'm gay, and your face won't save you next time."

He just turned about and walked away.

I fucking knew it! I complied to my desire to get the last laugh, and I did.

"You're not British, you're just gay!"

 **And that's all for now, folks.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3, here we go!**

I was sitting in the back of AP History when classes ended. I found history amusing, though it was still as boring as other classes when taught in class format. The bell rung out clear and everybody grabbed their bags and ran like the frigging apocalypse was coming. I flung my own backpack over my shoulder and started to whistle as I slowly inched out of the classroom and into the hallways. I saw one of the two kids from homeroom – Joey, I think – arguing with this other guy who was trying to offer him cookies. Specifically bone-shaped cookies. I guess it was some prank or something, because the other guy was smiling, and gods did it look evil. I bet every time that guy smiles, puppies die. I would have waved to Joey, but he looked frigging pissed and I didn't want to interrupt, so I just walked on.

"Hey, pretty boy."

It was Florence… I mean, Bakura.

"You think I'm pretty, huh?"

He flinched at his mistake, recalling the conversation we had earlier.

"Fuck you."

I raised my voice an octave and made the easiest comeback ever. FRIGGING EVER, PEOPLE.

"But we just frigging met!"

"Sod off, Marik."

"You do know that means the same thing, but gayer, right? As in, gay with a capital 'g', do the YMCA, Elton John gay?"

He groaned.

"Enough about Elton John and The Village people! I don't even listen to either of them! That would be you, you little closet dweller."

"I'm not gay and I'll have you know I bought _Nevermind_ the day it came out!"

"Oh, you're so _original._ "

"I have their first record too."

He kind of bit his lip and ignored me. After that, he sort of walked off. I just made my way to the bus and sat down in the back. I opened my backpack and sorted through it, because people like to steal shit, especially from guys with purple backpacks.

Notebook, check. Sketchbook, check. Textbooks, check. _The Catcher in the Rye,_ check. Pen…

You have got to be fucking joking! That was my last good pen! Now I have to go ask for more, and my house is like the frigging orphanage from Oliver Twist, so I wish myself great luck in that department!

Then somebody in front of me dangled my pen down in front of my face.

"Looking for something?"

"Thanks,Bakura _._ I guess it's a good thing I'm so _attractive_ , otherwise you wouldn't be returning it."

He growled maliciously as I yanked the pen from his hand.

"Yes, be mad, because petty theft is so amusing, _Nothing_."

"Nothing, huh? Never heard that bloody joke before."

"Piss off."

The bus stopped a few times while I drew fake blueprints of a magical NES that played Sega games. From the corner of my eye I saw Bakura get from the seat. I guess it was his stop. I finished the NES and decided to call it 'Nothing.' It seemed pretty fitting, because it would never happen. Ha! Imagine that – a Nintendo console booting up a frigging Sonic game! ( **AN:** Cut to a decade later, when Sonic Adventure 2 is released for GameCube in February 2002. THIS JOKE IS AMUSING!)

I shifted my focus to the window, shoving the notebook in the bag as I saw my house zoom into view.

I got up and marched down the bus like a sexy bitch. Then I heard the biggest fucking bomb in my teenage life explode.

"Hey look, it's that Florence asshole's crush, right? Didn't he, like, tear up his schedule or some shit? Anyways, what a fag! Gawd, I wish they'd just, like, kick him out already."

It was some stupid girl, who probably listens to stupid music while she stupidly cheats on her stupid boyfriend. I turned to her and tried to look as creepy as possible.

"Yeah, the fag's sentiments are returned, bitch."

Her eyes were practically the size of dinner plates. Wait… that was basically admitting to it, right?

"By the way, I'm not the gay one in this conversation."

I cackled as I hopped off the bus. Boy, what a bitch she was. I hoped I'd never see her again. I sauntered right up onto the porch and into the living room. I found what I had hoped to never see.

"Oh, so Billy thought it would be nice to abandon ship and leave us all alone, now did he?"

Shit, my father! I was so busy mouthing off at the bitch on the bus that I didn't notice how long I was taking. I looked closely at him and I could tell he was totally hammered. Probably stoned, too.

"D-dad, my name's not Billy, I'm Marik, and I – "

He cut me off with a sentence I had no idea would screw me over.

"You're one minute late, Billy. One whole _minute._ "

He started to pace around me like a madman. Which he was, so I gave him credit there.

"I'm sorry, please! There was this girl, on the bus, a-and she called me a name, and I had to –"

"One minute is enough for a thiefto _break in_ , steal _our treasures,_ and _leave_ when _you_ are off guard!"

"I didn't mean to do it! Please believe me!"

"It doesn't matter, Billy. You need to _learn_ how this _household_ operates!"

He grabbed me by the neck and shoved me into the wall. I curled into fetal position and he started kicking me in the ribs. It hurt like hell, and I screamed in pain. He stopped to mock me.

"You're pathetic! What if the robbers come?"

He cuffed me right in the face and it left a bruise.

He released me and slumped over to the couch, and grabbed a beer, allowing me to slink upstairs to my bedroom. My room was both a prison and a paradise for me; prison in that I was locked in; paradise in that I didn't mind.

It wasn't anything special. A bare mattress that was my bed, a fold-out table that was my desk, and a trash bag full of clothes that was my dresser were all the furniture I had in there. Actually, scrap that. A bag isn't frigging furniture. So it was just a mattress and a folding desk, really.

I had some more personal things, of course. I had an old portable cassette player and four or five mixtapes. My favorite one was this 8-track bootleg I made myself. I didn't have a b-side ready yet, because I didn't know what to put on it, but the a-side was frigging amazing. I called it 'Marik's Mixtape' because that's all it really was. I had only two albums – 'Bleach' and 'Bricks Are Heavy' – because those were the only two I could get my hands on. I had some CDs too, specifically 'Nevermind' and of course the YMCA single, but I didn't really get to hear them that often because we rarely ever drove anywhere, and the only CD player we had was in the car.

Other than that, I had some yaoi manga, which was… pretty much gay Japanese schoolboy porn. I had about 12 or so magazines of it, I guess. There was Mr. Tweetums, a sparrow plushy from when I was a kid. Boy, do I miss the days he could actually make me feel safe in this frigging hell.

I collapsed on the mattress and pulled my bag next to me. I struggled through history, algebra, and chemistry for about three hours and then shut my notebook loudly and damn near ripped a hole through my bag when I put it back in. I opened my copy of _The Catcher In The Rye_ from lit class and read the assigned chapters. Then I read through the rest of the book.

It was a story about a kid named Holden who went to this pretentious school he hated, and then he got kicked out because he flunked. And he hated so many things. He hated phonies, movies, rich people, dumb girls... hell, I don't know if there was much he liked except his siblings and coke and scotch. And then he ran away from the school to go back home, and he spent his time going to hotels and bars and talking to nuns and phonies and hookers and even his own little sister. He just up and left and gave no shits about it.

But when I got to thinking…

 _What if I ran away?_

I dwelt on the idea for an hour, thinking it through.

My life was hell, my dad would never notice, and I could take everything with me. Even if I died out there, nobody would care all that much, because I had no friends. It was great.

I opened my backpack and shoved my cassette player and my mixtapes into it. I put in all my books and magazines, and I even took the CDs and Mr. Tweetums just because I could. I zipped it shut and slung it over my back. I grabbed the trashbag with my clothes in it, then I dashed into the bathroom and took my toothbrush and a coil of floss. My father was sleeping in the couch the whole time, and nobody else was home.

I walked straight out the front door and made a break for it.

I don't remember how far I ran, but it must have been all the way downtown because there were neon lights and trash cans everywhere when I stopped.

I was sitting in an unlit alleyway, in between a fence and a dumpster. It smelled terrible, but it was wide and sanitary enough and nobody who cared where I was would see me. It was really dark, though I couldn't tell the time. I took out an ugly sweater from the trashbag and pulled it over my head. I put the trashbag under my head and clung to my backpack like a stuffed animal. It was really cold that night, and I may not have realized it, but it was said that that night was the coldest one of the season. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up I was not in an alley. I was in some kid's bedroom, though it wasn't my own. An L7 poster hung on the wall, boxes of nerdy tabletop RPGs were stacked on bookshelves, along with what was possibly the largest and least organized collection of science fiction novels I had ever seen. There was a wooden desk that was cluttered with papers and CD jackets. Next to the desk, I saw a giant black CD player, and what looked to be a computer monitor. Whoever lived here was a huge frigging geek. I was on a small air mattress with an itchy gray wool blanket wrapped around me. I slid off the mattress and walked to the door. I was about to open it when it opened itself. I jumped backwards a few feet, and saw one of the kids from homeroom.

"Hey, man… I don't know if you caught my name this morning, but it's Yugi."

"Okay…hi, Yugi?"

"I guess you're betting why you're in here, huh?"

"You're good at guessing."

He snorted.

"Well, I found you in the alley while I was taking out the trash and you were probably going to die if I left you out there, so…"

"So you dragged me in?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Can I ask you a question?"

"I should be asking more questions, but sure, go ahead."

"Why were you sleeping in an alleyway?"

"I ran away."

He sighed, as if it was unusual for people to run away from things.

"Yeah, but why?"

"…Because I got fed up with his bullshit."

"Whose bullshit?"

I couldn't mention my father. I couldn't.

"Can I ask you a few questions now?"

"Huh? Sure, fire away."

"Where's my stuff?"

"Oh, we brought it in. It's downstairs."

"What about the trashbag?"

"You mean the one you were sleeping on? I left it outside…why?"

"My clothes were in that."

"Oh. I guess I'll tell grandpa to get it then…though sitting next to a dumpster for that long probably made everything in it smell like shit."

I laughed halfheartedly.

"What time is it?"

He pointed at a clock on the wall that I hadn't seen before. I guess it didn't stand out much.

"11:30. You were out for about two and a half hours."

"Okay…Is there school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it's a Thursday."

"Shit."

"You have all your stuff, right?"

"Yeah, but the bus…"

"It's not that far away. I'd say ten minutes walking, tops."

"One last thing…"

"Yeah?"

I looked at my feet and my voice cracked as I asked him the last thing anybody in his position would care to hear.

"Where will I go tomorrow?"

He sighed.

"You don't have any friends, do you?"

"Nope."

"I guess I get you, kind of."

"What about that Joey guy? Aren't you friends with him?"

"Yeah, but it's not really for much of a good reason. I really don't understand why, because he used to punch me out and call me a pussy. One day some creepy guy noticed and beat him up, and tried to charge me money for it, and I guess I just took the better path because both of them were total dickweeds, but at least Joey wasn't a thief. And…"

He looked downwards.

"And what?"

He didn't look up.

"And then there's _that_ asshole."

"You can talk to me, I know plenty about assholes."

He looked at me funny, then his face went back to normal.

"There's this guy named Yami…and he follows me around, and all he ever does…"

He swallowed.

"…is try to get me to sleep with him."

I bit my tongue. Boy, was this a touchy subject for this kid or what?

"And he's not even nice about it! He says he wants shit like three ways, and he's so fucking depraved it hurts! And I can't ever get him to leave! He's a total prick!"

"Couldn't you just tell him you're not into guys?"

"No."

"Why the frig not?"

"Because that would be a lie."

I looked him in the eyes. His face did not fault or crack. He just looked scared as frigging hell, and I can't say I ever could blame him for that.

"You're gay?"

"No… just bi."

"Not as if the hicks in this town can tell the difference…"

"Yeah, and what's worse, there's this guy named Bakura who keeps beating me up."

"Why?"

"I was implying it was because he knows."

"I met Bakura. He's an ass."

"Isn't everybody?"

"Frig, I guess so."

He smirked at that. I could see myself hanging out with this kid.

"Yeah. By the way, I never got your name…"

"It's Marik."

"Really? I think I've heard that name before…"

"Yeah… it's an Arabic name, sort of. I think my dad was drunk or something when he signed the certificate. It was supposed to be Malik."

"Oh…that's…"

Crap, I brought up my dad. That was not a good thing!

"Yeah, I know, a bit strange, but I'm fine with it because Malik makes it sound like I'm frigging licking something."

He bit down on a huge grin. What was overly funny about that? Then he just dropped the smile, turning very serious.

"So... you didn't tell me why you ran away. Can you?"

I was so shocked he remembered. I guess bringing up Hank wasn't going to go unpunished.

"I had enough of my dad's bullshit. He's crazy, so I guess I just ran."

"Did he beat you up? You have that bruise on your face…"

I hesitated to answer. Yugi just looked at me sadly.

"My parents used to beat me, Marik. I know what it's like."

I lied through my teeth.

"No, he didn't. He's just nuts. The bruise is from Bakura."

"Oh, okay. I guess I can drive you back home after school tomorrow.'

"I can walk."

He sighed heavily.

"You really don't want to be helped, do you?"

"Frig, I guess not…"

"Well, you're free to use the air mattress, I have a spare. Just…talk to me."

"Alright."

I sighed, and fell back on the mattress, closing my eyes…

 **The end!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four is here! Joy!**

I was shaken awake. Yugi kept calling to me,

"Hey, Marik, you dick! Don't make me late!"

I rose off the air mattress and stared him in the eye.

"What are you going to do, break my kneecaps with a socket wrench?"

His eyes widened as he held up a socket wrench covered in flaky red paint.

"It's like you're psychic or something!"

"That would be my sister. Do you always keep a frigging socket wrench lying around?"

"Yeah, it works better than a switchblade knife or anything like that."

"Is it reserved for kneecaps only, or do you use it to crack skulls?"

"Well, since you asked…"

"Don't answer that."

He sighed and put the wrench in his backpack.

"So, where are you going to go tonight?"

"I guess I could always go to the streets again."

"Now, why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I can't stay here, you know. I have to keep moving."

"I know this bridge that's pretty safe. It's like a town under there…."

"Can you show me after school?"

"Sure. Just be sure to visit me, okay? I think you're a funny guy, and, well…"

"You don't…"

"…Like you? Aw, hell no. Just need a friend."

I nodded. The school was about as far away as Yugi had said it was. I trudged into the building with dread of running into Bakura filling my stomach with bile.

We sat down in homeroom. Bakura was in front of me, Yugi behind me, and Joey behind him. To the right of Joey sat the puppy killer, and that's all the people I could recognize.

Bakura turned around as soon as class started.

"You better not tell anybody about what I told you."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Fluffy."

"I know you're totally gay. You aren't good at hiding it, you know."

I changed the subject.

"Why do you hate Yugi?"

"Yugi? I don't hate anybody named Yugi. Why?"

"A friend of mine claims you beat him up because you knew he was…"

I shut myself up before the rest slipped out, but Bakura got the rest out of me.

"Because he was what?"

"Because he's a little like _you._ "

"That's dumb. The last time I beat a guy up, it was that _filthy whore._ "

"Was his name Yami?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

I made a mental note to ask Yugi about what Yami looked like. Bakura closed in on me, and his face was just a few inches from mine. I grew nervous. He noticed this and got closer.

"You sure you're straight? Because the face you're making says no."

"I am not gay."

"I never said you were gay. I just said you weren't straight."

"Yeah, trust me; we're on opposite frigging ends of the scale, binky boy."

He snorted.

"But I'm not straight, stupid."

I'll admit to you that he was indeed correct to assume I was gay. I suppose one could describe me as… flamboyant. But this was 1992, dammit. If you were gay in 1992, your best bet was to keep it hidden, because people gave you shit for it. Kill-you-and-keep-your-body-in-a-freezer shit. Shit my own father would give me if I were to tell anybody, because he would find out, and so I didn't tell anybody, because as far as they were concerned, I was straight. No terrible inhumane murder for me, no frigging thank you.

"I'm not into men, period."

He snorted.

"You dress like that and you expect me to believe – "

"Maybe it's to get girls."

"I doubt it."

I was about to make a comeback when the bell rang and I had to go to Geometry. I sat down, not recalling a bit of the work I had done yesterday. I noticed the puppy killer was sitting next to me, but something about him was off. His eyes looked even blanker and deader than before. Then I noticed why.

His pupils were dilated. He was frigging tripping!

The girl behind me poked me. It was the girl from the bus.

"Hey, fag. Joey wants to know if you'll go out with him."

When I didn't turn around, she handed me a scrap of paper and I flipped her off behind my back. I wished I could see her face, but then I'd have to wash my eyes out again.

I opened the scrap of paper. _You see that kid with the brown hair, blue eyes? Shake your head if his pupils are all big, okay?_ I shook my head.

The teacher paused her lecture with a sigh. I looked back to see Joey raising his hand.

"Yes, Mister Wheeler?"

"Can I take a piss?"

"Not in my classroom. Go, and don't take long."

Joey got up and speed-walked past the junkie, leaving a piece of paper on his desk. The teacher hadn't noticed, but apparently the junkie did, because he looked down and opened it. His hand jerked up.

"You too, Kaiba?"

The junkie just nodded.

"Very well. Just go before class next time."

The junkie stumbled out of the room, but the teacher was pretty stupid, so she didn't notice anything strange. I raised my hand, and the teacher groaned.

"Just. Go."

I nodded and followed the junkie down the hallway, careful not to make any noise. He abruptly stopped walking, causing me to almost bump into him.

"I know somebody's following me. I may be high off my ass on acid, but I'm not a moron. Turn around and go back and I won't try to look at your face."

I disguised my voice the best I could (which wasn't good, I admit) and then I replied to his threat.

"My father's got a bit of a problem with the L himself."

"Your dad should start dating mine; it sounds like they have a hell of a lot in common."

"That would make me your brother, and believe me, the siblings I already have are frigging plenty."

"You don't know the half of it."

I didn't know whether to laugh or get offended, so I did neither.

"You gonna keep walking?"

He didn't respond; he just took a few steps forward and continued to walk, so I followed him. We ended up in the bathroom, where Joey was leaning against the tiled walls and staring at the parallel walls.

"I'm here, mutt."

"I told you not ta trip in class. Since ya can't seem ta avoid the stuff, I figure I'd keep ya outta class."

"Wheeler, an average LSD trip lasts hours. You can't stop me from getting high in class, or even in general, anyways. You know I need it."

"You don't need it."

"I do need it, you stupid dog! It's the only thing keeping me afloat here, can't you try to understand that much? I know it's confusing for your tiny canine brain –"

"Sticks and stones, Moneybags."

"You're an idiot. Just let me have my acid! It's not like it should matter to you anyways!"

"Kaiba, you're addicted to the shit."

"I am not on heroin! My hair is simply green! Shut up!"

Joey noticed me.

"Marik! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Marik? Is that what the voices' name is? I let him follow me!"

"Nyeh?"

"I followed him."

He sighed. Yugi said he was a dickweed, but Joey didn't seem like a genuine asshole.

"This is Kaiba. He's got some 'special' problems, and he has a supply of blotters and booze at home. It ain't a pleasant mix."

"What do you mean, 'special'?"

"Well, for starters, he's a schizo…meaning he shouldn't be on acid, period. Not only does his family not let him get meds, but he's in love with himself."

"Shut up, Wheeler! You don't know why my hair is green! Leave me alone!"

"And because he's 'special', he always has a bad trip."

"MY HAIR IS GREEN, YOU MUTT!"

"Sure, Kaiba. Your hair is green. It's so green. Greener than the lunch they serve at this school. Happy?"

Kaiba started shaking.

"NO! YOU'RE A LIAR! YOU KNOW IT'S YOUR ENTIRE FAULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN THE DOGHOUSE!"

In seconds, everybody's favorite addict was on the floor, limbs thrashing in all directions while he made several 'attractive' faces. Joey grabbed both of his legs while Kaiba kept struggling and screamed incoherently. I caught words and names in between the long, bloodcurdling screeches of agony that the junkie I had just met was emitting. It was pretty frigging disturbing, especially with the words he kept using. The two things he said the most were _give him back_ and _go away_.

"That tears it, we're cutting class. Marik, can you get Yugi? He's in 420 this period."

"Ironic name."

"Yeah Marik, it's hilarious. Now go and get him!"

I slammed the door as I left the bathrooms. I looked at the door to the closest classroom, which was thankfully empty. It read 369 on the door. I walked down the hall a bit, and the next classroom door was labeled 370, meaning I was headed in the right direction. I broke into a sprint, which was uncomfortable with the tight jeans I was wearing. It was like almost being castrated every two frigging minutes. I slowed down when I heard two voices coming from the next turn in the hallway.

The first one was unfamiliar, kind of deep and gruff. He sounded like had water up his nose, too.

"Come on, why not? You know you want to."

The second voice was more familiar.

"Get closer and I shatter your kneecaps!"

A footstep and then a cry of pain rang out. But it wasn't Yugi's.

"What the hell? You brought a socket wrench to school?"

"Well, I can't really bring anything else to protect myself, so yes, I did!"

I walked around the corner to be faced with two Yugis. Except one was taller, and also he was holding his busted kneecaps while curled in fetal position against a locker while the short one held a familiar socket wrench. I took a wild guess and figured that the one with the socket wrench was Yugi.

"Marik? What the hell are you doing here?"

"One word: Kaiba."

"Lemme guess; acid. Or did he do meth again?"

 _Meth?_ Holy Ra, this school is more fucked up than I thought.

"Acid."

At first he looked relieved, but then he sighed at the face I was making.

"Trust me, you don't want to see him on anything harder than LSD. It's not just scary, it's downright terrifying and sometimes makes me want to give him a hug. Nobody and I mean _nobody_ ever feels empathy for him in any other situation. It's serious shit. Where is he?"

"Bathroom near 369. Joey's with him."

"Alright, let's go rescue Seto Kaiba."

We probably broke the record for fastest sprint through a hallway that day.

 **And chapter 4 is over. Hooray.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five of TMOCS! Here ya go!**

"Wheeler, the wolf is here for you! It's going to eat you and then I'm next! Make it stop! Make it go away!"

I sighed as Kaiba struggled to get free of his restraints, which happened to be Yugi and I. Joey was leading us to his car so we could take everybody's favorite stoner to sober up somewhere where teachers wouldn't notice.

Joey unlocked the door to an unsightly Jeep that was almost entirely frigging rust. Yugi took shotgun and I got stuck next to the junkie. He could have an outburst any time, so I was ready to restrain him.

The car's insides were as nasty as its outsides. The seats were torn and stained with various unidentified substances. Crumbs from chips and fast food littered the floor. It smelled like urine – scented cigarettes.

"Sorry about the car. I ain't the most fortunate guy in the world."

"Just get us somewhere far away before the smell rubs off on me!"

Joey groaned and pulled a small key from his pocket and slipped it into the ignition. The jeep sputtered to life and the smell of benzene filled my nostrils. We pulled out of the parking lot and took the road towards the country, sitting in silence save for Kaiba, who spouted terrifying nonsense for an entire fifteen minutes. We stopped near a huge farm house.

"Kaiba's place."

Joey veered the jeep into the grass in front of the house and killed the engine. We all jumped out of the car, glad to be free of the smell of piss and tobacco smoke. Yugi led Kaiba to the door while Kaiba started roaring and screamed about being a dragon.

A boy with green hair answered the door. When he saw junkie boy, he just sighed.

"Alright, what did he get high on this time?"

Gods, could he sound any _girlier?_

"It was acid."

He slapped himself and muttered something about leaving his drug cabinet unlocked. He turned to me.

"Oh, hey. The name is Noah. I'm Seto's step brother. You can come in with Joey."

Yugi sat on a bench on the porch.

"I'll watch the car."

Joey and I put Kaiba on a dusty brown sofa and gave him some sedatives they had. The house kind of looked like a haunted meth lab. Bottles of painkillers and OTC drugs were stacked on tables and bookshelves. Food wrappers littered on the floor. The house was mostly unlit, thick red curtains drawn and shutters closed. The television was practically the only light source.

"Mokuba, get down here!"

A few boards creaked and a boy with shaggy black hair appeared in the corner of the room.

"Did big brother…?"

"Acid. Blotters. The L. Lucy. LSD. Yes, Mokuba, he's fucking high."

"I know big brother gets it from your stash! And I know your stash is laced with fairy dust! Why don't you just get rid of it?"

"Because that would be a waste."

"Noah, he's schizophrenic and he's a narcissist, and he's got no meds!"

"Which is why, Mokuba dear, I've been trying to make some for him."

"You run a meth lab!"

"I don't like to put the failed experiments to waste. Somebody has to pay for the supplies, and you know father won't do it."

"You just want to wait till he dies so you can do whatever creepy shit you like to me."

"Why, Mokuba, I'm appalled! I have no such desires for my own stepbrother!"

"You're lying, I know it!"

Joey cleared his throat and held up a small pillbox he pulled out of his pocket.

"I actually brought some meds for Seto. They're black market, of course, but they're not from some nobody. I had them checked and verified by this doctor who..."

"Yeah, thanks. We'll give him the meds. Leave now."

Noah snatched the pillbox and put it on a table.

We left the house hastily, and as I shut the door I heard yelling and screaming. I turned to Joey.

"Explain everything that just frigging happened."

"I was Kaiba's dealer before I realized he was mental. Now I'm jus' his doctor."

"You're a drug pusher? What the frigging hell did you give that guy to make him so frigging lifeless?"

"Acid, cocaine, fairy dust. I sold for a gang. I quit though. A friend of mine snapped me out of it."

"Why is there screaming coming from this house?"

"Noah's got a huge brother complex. That's all I can say."

"Is he hitting Mokuba?"

Joey bit his lip.

"Yeah, he probably is."

"Joey?"

"Yeah?"

"Are all of my friends going to be like this?"

"Yeah, probably will. Junkies, dealers, punks, and criminals. That's us."

I blew a raspberry.

"Sounds like I'll fit in just fine."

"Who knows? It's all in the heart of the cards."

"What's that?"

"Have you met Yami?"

"You mean the guy who wants in Yugi's pants?"

Joey looked surprised.

"He does?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew that already."

"No… I did not. Anyways, once he and Kaiba were playing Old Maid and he beat Kaiba. Kaiba and Yami – they're weird. They're friends, but they can't stand each other. Always coming up with insults to throw around at the other… what was I sayin' again?"

"Yami beat Kaiba at Old Maid."

"Yeah, and so Kaiba gets really mad and says Yami's playing with a cheat deck. Yami says he won because the heart of the cards was in his favor. Kaiba says he's going to rip up the whole deck and grabs the ace of hearts and he's about to tear it in half. Yami tells him that tearing the cards up won't kill the heart of the cards and then Kaiba says it's like Yami thinks the cards have feeling. Yami says they do and starts making up a religion about cards and game pieces being gods. Kaiba...you won't believe this…"

"Well?"

" _He puts down the card_! He _believes_ it!"

"Wow. What an exciting story."

"No. No it isn't."

"I know, Joey. That's the joke."

 **That's all for now.**


End file.
